


Passerine

by Strawberi_beri



Category: NCT (Band), WayV (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Drama, Eventual Relationships, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Romance, Vampires, minor tenjun, not as sad i promise, slice of life but like monsters, very minor fluff, xiaojun is just a feral child
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 14:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30124209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strawberi_beri/pseuds/Strawberi_beri
Summary: It's the beginning of Autumn and Dejun finds himself cold and alone, struggling to survive in the forest he now calls home with a bedridden Ten. But the animals aren't just cutting it and with Ten getting hungrier and hungrier with each passing night, Dejun wonders how long until they both die of hunger. But then one fateful night, Dejun stumbles upon two humans.Yangyang and Kunhang don't know about the monsters lurking in the forest at night with gold and red eyes. But they will soon.It's just a question of what Dejun's going to do about it.
Relationships: Liu Yang Yang/Wong Kun Hang | Hendery, Liu Yang Yang/Wong Kun Hang | Hendery/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun, Liu Yang Yang/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun, Wong Kun Hang | Hendery/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun
Kudos: 18





	Passerine

**Author's Note:**

> A thin, white veil hangs from the bed’s canopy obscuring the body behind it but as the dawn’s light slowly starts to seep into the cold room, Dejun makes out the dark figure laying down. It’s been three long months since Ten had personally condemned himself to this tiny Hell, veiled to the world—to Dejun. 
> 
> All the vampire has now just seemed to be memories of what Ten used to be. Even then, sometimes he finds himself muddling up the finer details like the shape of Ten’s eyes, or the particular shade of red they were. He thinks that maybe they were red like the Autumn leaves on the ground, sharper than the knife by Dejun’s side.

It's the fifth day of the tenth month. The moon is but a pale sliver in the lonesome sky that shines dimly on an equally lonely forest. And in the forest lays a singular cabin, just a shadow of its former glory as shingles haphazardly lay on the ground below and tiny holes litter the sides.

Inside the rickety cabin a heavily garbed figure paces the hallway. Shallow breaths followed by heavy footsteps fill the cold air, but that’s the least of their problems. No, the biggest problem lies just beyond the closed bedroom door. The floorboards creak incessantly—outside an owl hoots.

The shadow finally stops at the bedroom door. A pale hand, wound into a tight fist, hovers in the air briefly before knocking on the door. Three staccato knocks, “I’m leaving for the night,” the voice says softly, face pressing close to the door in hopes to try and hear anything through the thick wood. Nothing stirs. With a deep sigh, he walks out the front door, dark robe enclosing a gaunt figure and a burlap sack.

The air smells of pine needles and the cold Autumn night stings Dejun's lungs.

For a moment he stalls at the front door, body half-turned as he takes in his pale bottom lip and chews. He's so, so tired, and with each cold breath it feels like his body could just give out any second. But quickly—within a blink of an eye—a firm resolve settles into his gut.

The night will not be young forever.

And then he steps foot into the dense forest surrounding the cabin.

There used to be a time—way back when—where hunting wasn’t so hard. A time where food was plentiful and a hunting companion was always next to him. A time where they flourished, free of scrutinizing gazes and their names just an old tale to tell around a campfire. A time where it wasn't so lonely for Dejun. Times have changed though, slowly and then all at once, until Dejun’s large family was whittled down to just a few. And then just two.

Him and Ten; always inseparable since the older man had found him years ago.

Time isn’t on their side though, not anymore. And it’s that dreaded ‘unknown’ that Dejun fears each evening he wakes up. He wouldn’t be anything without Ten—he wasn’t before and he surely won’t be after. Now isn’t the time for useless thoughts though. No, the brunette shakes his head hastily, trying to rattle what sense he had back into place, right now he has to focus on providing. Each step he takes the dried leaves under his boots give way, crunching softly as he searches the forest floor for the previous traps he had set up days prior.

Unfortunately, with just him hunting, Dejun’s had to rely more on trapping smaller pray than taking down larger animals like the prolific deer roaming the mountainside. The small rabbits, rodents, and other tiny creatures provide just enough blood for Ten to feed on but Dejun isn’t so lucky. With each week that passes he notices the way his limbs feel heavier, how the cold affects him more and more despite his layers of fleece. And as the night passes by, the sack over his shoulder slowly growing heavier, Dejun’s mind starts to wander.

Will Ten get better?

Will these small animals be enough?

And what if it wasn’t? What is Dejun supposed to do then?

Hunting is much too dangerous to do in the light of day; too much exposure.

Despite the increasing ache from the weight on his shoulder, Dejun continues to check up his other traps that lay near the edge of the territory the duo have ‘claimed’. It’s rare for the man to even bother setting anything up so far from the cabin, but desperate times call for desperate measures. With each passing day seeming to grow only colder Dejun has limited options about where he can get food. He curses his luck for Ten falling bedridden at such an inconvenient season and for not being strong enough to haul deer home.

The moon hangs high in the sky by the time the brunette does go to the edge of the thick woods, the pine trees growing only sparser as he looks beyond the thicket.

With a heavy sigh, Dejun starts scouring the area for the markers he left himself. Out of the five traps he laid last, only one yields food. Part of him considers the amount of energy he exerted to just get this far a waste, but on the other hand this tiny rabbit could mean the difference between having enough food or starving another night. Dejun makes quick work of putting the struggling creature to rest, the metal of the knife glinting against the dark sky as he slices through fur and skin.

He wipes the knife against his thick cloak and starts the long trek back to the cabin.

The moon, hanging a little lower now, shines dimly on the forest floor. The little light is just enough for Dejun to see the slashes against pale tree-bark that he carved months ago as a marker. One would think after months of residing here, he’d know the area by now. But alas, he doesn’t often get the luxury of exploring the forest and thus only really knows the paths to his traps—nothing else really matters. Slowly, steadily, the brunette softly grunts with each step forward. It was always easier going outwards since it was on a decline, but going back to the cabin on an incline (with already little energy) was always the hardest part of his hunts. Just another reason why he rarely ventures this far out.

With one mighty grunt, Dejun manages to get pass the incline portion, letting himself relax against a nearby tree knowing that the rest of the way back is mostly smooth sailing.

Between the thick, Autumn leaves, the dark sky sparkles weakly with stars. Taking the position of the sky into account, the brunette approximates that he has enough time tonight to measly amble through the forest, maybe find a different route home. There’s always the fear of running into the cougars that reside higher up in the mountain though. Luckily, he’s only seen them once and they just stared at him before walking away. He wonders if they can sense Ten on him.

Such thoughts are just flights of fancy though. If there’s one thing Dejun understands about vampires (maybe the only thing) is that the creatures like routine. Routine is safe, secure. It’s when vampires stray from routine that get them killed. ‘No vampire lives long being curious’ the words repeat in Dejun’s heart; sounding a lot like Ten.

“Maybe I don’t want to live long...” Dejun whispers the confession quietly to the moon, not without him, he thinks sullenly. Perhaps the twinkling of the stars is the Universe's way of telling him _‘we're listening. We care’_. What good is the Universe though if it can’t help—

_Ten…_

Unable to accept his friend’s fate, the brunette continues his slow steps forward. He has to make it back in time before the sun rises and he’s determined to get their faster than usual. Just to show that he’s still able to provide—that he’s still of some use.

It doesn’t last long.

Maybe it’s the way the wind smells oddly fragrant tonight, or the light rustling sound of leaves tickling his ears, or maybe it’s the culmination of long months with just his thoughts that has Dejun—usually sure footed—faltering. Between the leaves gentle swaying, he hears something...foreign. The sound is unusual: high-pitched, patchy, sounding too joyful against the bleak backdrop. His mind flitters through the collection of noises he's grown accustomed too. Quickly, Dejun’s mind settles uneasily at the only possible answer: human. How long has it been since he’s last seen another person outside other covens? Since Ten drank from one? Too long, his brain supplies quietly.

Biting his cheek, Dejun turns on his heels and slowly makes his way towards the noise, head empty of any plan on what he’d do once he sees them. All he knows is that he needs to see another person, now.

It’s an oddly quick trek, just a few minutes away from his usual path, and before Dejun has time to think about consequences he stumbles upon a small clearing he’s never noticed before. He takes to hiding behind a tall pine tree by the edge of the clearing, gold eyes burning holes at the scene in front of him. The clearing is better lit without the branches and leaves obstructing the light, and in the middle of the shining meadow are two men. The shorter one has shining silver hair that Dejun’s never seen on anyone who wasn’t old. And the taller has pink hair? Already the oddest two humans Dejun’s laid his eyes on and it hasn’t even been a minute yet. Just how much have times changed? It’s really such a shame though that they wandered into the wrong parts of the woods.

Don't they know the woods at night are dangerous?

There are so many creatures lurking about that would make them easy prey.

Creatures like him.

Dejun's head races with too many thoughts. Most of which revolve around getting one of them (better yet two of them) to Ten. Animal blood is much less filling than human blood but in Dejun’s current state (thin limbs and tiny stature) he doubts he could even take on the shorter one.

Maybe he could pretend to need help? Lure one of them away to make it easier.

No, no, that would never work. Dammit, why couldn’t there be another vampire here with him!

Dejun watches intently as the two move sporadically around each other in some confusing mating dance. Rushing into each other only to hurriedly separate again; a child’s game. Licking his lips, the bark under Dejun’s fingers dig into his nail bed as he grips the tree tighter. His other hand clasps his hunting knife; his heart thuds heavy against his ribcage.

He can’t just let them go. Who knows if he’ll cross paths with another unsuspecting human at night, let alone two!

Golden eyes close as his chest rises shakily, thoughts of Ten floods his mind and Dejun knows that he’s too stubborn to die by the hands of two humans—ignorant of their surroundings. He almost forgets that he’s never tried to kill a person before—almost. He bites on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as his hand starts tremble from the tight grip on his dagger. His head wars against his heart, frozen in place. There’s no reason for them to die, his heart whispers, but his brain argues that they would be able to feed Ten for at least three weeks.

Is it a crime wanting Ten to survive? Survival of the fittest and all that.

On his final exhale, his eyes slowly open as he tenses his muscles to start moving, but then the two men do something that stops the hunter in his tracks.

They kiss.

As if forcibly pulled out of his daze, Dejun slackens against the tree he’s been leaning on. Affection—love—is a world he’s unfamiliar with. Vampires do not love, not like humans do anyway, and every vampire Dejun’s ever crossed has made that abundantly clear. So, Dejun leans in a little more, watches a bit longer, as the two kiss under the moon, latching onto each other as if that’s all they’ve ever known. He practically feels his face burn as he watches the shorter of the two gently cradle the other’s face between his hands. The second kiss is softer, gentler than the bruising first one. It has Dejun’s head swimming.

There’s an uncomfortable emotion that swirls in his stomach but it mostly feels like nausea. Dejun places his hunting knife back, deciding that he’ll be merciful to the couple this time as he leaves just as quietly as he came in.

That was the plan, anyway.

Just when Dejun takes a step back, a twig breaks right behind him, deafening in the quiet woods.

One of the men seems to notice, shoving the shorter one behind him as Dejun holds the taller man's gaze. He breathes in sharply, blinks, and then disappears behind a large tree.

His feet naturally take him to the cabin, swift and cautious.

When Dejun looks over his shoulder he's surprised to see that the man hadn't given chase.

Later, right before the sun rises, Dejun walks into the second room of the small cottage with the blooded sack and sets it down before the large bed. A thin, white veil hangs from the bed’s canopy obscuring the body behind it but as the dawn’s light slowly starts to seep into the cold room, Dejun makes out the dark figure laying down. It’s been three long months since Ten had personally condemned himself to this tiny Hell, veiled to the world—to Dejun.

All the vampire has now just seemed to be memories of what Ten used to be. Even then, sometimes he finds himself muddling up the finer details like the shape of Ten’s eyes, or the particular shade of red they were. He thinks that maybe they were red like the Autumn leaves on the ground, sharper than the knife by Dejun’s side.

With a soft intake of air, he says “Eat well,” barely above a hush, before he heads out of the room again. Right as his hand makes contact with the handle; however, a raspy voice stops him in his tracks.

“You sound troubled, is something wrong.” Despite the question Ten's tone is level and commanding. All Dejun's ever wanted though was to protect Ten and he decides that the two humans are nothing he can't handle.

So he lies. “Nothing’s wrong Ten, just lost in thought.” Not so unusual for him. Dejun was always teased for spacing out so easily, head always in the clouds. If Ten is wary he doesn’t ask. Taking the silence as his cue to leave, the door makes a soft click behind him. Dejun leans against the steady wood as he hears the veil being slowly pulled open and the sound of hungry eating. Lately, Ten’s hunger has been growing exponentially. Soon, he’ll have to find a way to trap and kill a deer just to satiate him for a few days. Weak and hungry, no doubt Ten’s fate would be sealed if Dejun wasn’t here. Somehow, the weight of a life looming over his head makes his existence that much more painful. He thinks back to those two humans and how much richer and filling human blood is to vampires, exhales deeply, and promises himself that next time it’ll be different.

Softly, Dejun speaks the words into being, intent on reaping what he’s sowed. But behind his iron words, there’s a softer voice in his heart, worn and tired.

That morning, as he finally lays in bed, he thinks that if he could dream, he would dream of that kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I'm finally posting this! I've been working really hard on this story and plot so I hope you dear readers like it! While I'm not sure what tone this story would really fall into, it's my first time writing something...bleaker? So hopefully the tone is okay and not all over the place.
> 
> POV will be changing between Dejun and Kunhang so please look forward to the next chapter from Kunhang's perspective! Comments/critiques and kudos are appreciated, thank you so much for reading!


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